


Duel

by Taisin



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 20:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taisin/pseuds/Taisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran Arainai is a Grey Warden. His party meets a would-be assassin. </p>
<p>Prompt (from ZevThread at bioware forums): Alternate Universe - Reverse Roles<br/>Zevran Arainai is the one Duncan recruited to be a Grey Warden alongside Alistair. Your PC is the assassin hired by Howe and Loghain. Reinterpret any Origins scene with the roles of Zev and the Warden swapped around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duel

"A duel?"

"Yes," said the beautiful young woman in full armor, her face carefully expressing outrage at the presence of two treacherous Grey Wardens in Denerim, of all places. Her eyes were dull - and desperate. A real crime, thought Zevran.

"If my lady so desires," he smiled, and offered her a bow - the one that a commoner should execute if by some chance invited to a dance by a noble. 

She stared.

"You are not... what I expected."

"No shit," he heard Alistair murmur at his back, and grinned wide.

"I get that quite often. Let's go somewhere more private, for such... intimate matter, yes?"

She blushed most prettily and led them to the prepared ambush site among derelict warehouses.

They followed. Alistair with his innocent face, Leliana looking very sweet, and Wynne, doing her best to impersonate a frail grandmother who just happened to find Circle robes comfortable.  
Everyone was alert and ready, and he felt their impatient tension with all his body.  
Best team he ever had.

The Blight surely brings people together, he thought - and decided to let his enjoyment show. Alistair glanced at him with disapproval. The boy didn't like... what was the expression? ah, yes. "Kicking the puppy".

Well, was it really his fault that after being half grilled by a High Dragon, some... four archers, one badly hidden mage and five moderately well-equipped swordsmen didn't look as quite a challenge?

In the end, The Lady was more a challenge than all of her ambush crew. She was obviously well trained, if in a somewhat classical style, typical of nobles. She fought with spirit and fire, and the dance was beyond enjoyable. So much, that he found himself pulling off the killing blow.

With part of his consciousness devoted to the battle around him he registered the splash of a body - of the last archer - meeting the pavement, and then there were only the sounds of his team checking for wounds and verifying equipment. Everyone was fine.

Heavy steps approached their dancing floor.

"Honestly, Zev," Alistair's voice was full of tired exasperation. "That's just cruel."

It was, really. But, ah. To kill her would be such a waste. So he disarmed her in two movements, made her fall and sat on her chest, dagger pointed at her throat.

She blinked up to him, disoriented - and then he saw fight flowing out of her. She went limp - and closed her eyes.

"Kill me."

"You wouldn't, right?" Alistair actually sounded worried.

Zevran sighed.

"I'm quite sure, that removing such a beauty from this world would be a great offense to the Maker. What do you think, my dear bard?"

"Without doubt," he heard Lelliana's smile in her reply. She came to stand behind him, and he was sure she was looking at the noble girl with some dismay and compassion. 

"Oh, you poor thing... Don't worry, we are not so cruel."

Girl's eyes flew open, desperate and wild. She jerked into his dagger, and as he pulled the weapon away, cringed, as if in great pain.

"You don't understand! He has to find my body, of he would kill... His spies saw me - saw us..." 

Of course.

"We were not followed," he said. "Whoever is the charming Ser retaining who you hold dear - he can't know the result of our little duel, yes? Especially if no bodies will be found," he raised his voice a little.

"You are a cruel taskmaster, child," said his darling mage. "But very well."

"Just trying to be a good andrastian, my dear Wynne. Pilgrimage effect, no doubt."

He received a chuckle for reply, and - as he refocused on the wide-eyed girl - heard the unmistakable sound of a magical fire.

"She was coerced into it?" 

"Yes, Alistair, she was. Who is the hostage? Family? Lover?"

"He killed all my family," she said, matter of fact, despair roaring from her gaze. "He has Roland."

"Lover, then."

"My knight," she said, all noble and indignant. "I'm lady Elissa Cousland, and Roland Gilmore is my knight, to whom I ought protection and..." she gulped, quite clearly fighting her tears. 

"Oh, poor dear," said Leliana. "Don't worry, we are good at rescuing."

"What?"

Zevran chuckled, stood up and offered his hand - at the same time as Alistair. They shared a look, grinned and Zevran lowered his. The lady stared at them, not understanding.  
Zevran smiled at her.

"Stand up, my dear. Take our nice templar's hand..."

"I'm not a templar, Zev."

"...former templar's hand, stand up, and tell us who our mark is?"

"What?"

"Whose mansion we will have to wipe out to get your Roland?"

"Wiping limited only to the sinful, of course," he added, seeing Leliana open her mouth. She smiled sweetly.

"Arl Howe," the noble girl said, slowly pulling herself up, with Alistair's help. "He is now Arl of Denerim. ...Are you serious?"

"I'm always serious about assassination and rescuing, my dear."

"He really is," said Alistair. 

"But... why? You don't know me, I tried to kill you..."

The last part brought smiles to his team faces. The girl looked flustered.

"Well, we are Grey Wardens, you see," said Zevran. "As our efficient Morrigan quite succinctly put it: our job includes rescuing kittens from the trees. And you are much more adorable than a kitten."

"That means, we will be happy to help you, my lady," said Alistair.

"Just... like this?"

"For a moment, yes. Although, if you are feeling charitable - we could discuss the payment later," said Zevran.

"Oh. Sure. Just... I don't have much, and..."

"We need fighters," said Zevran. "Against the Blight. Every sword counts. So, if you feel inclined - join. But let’s discuss this later. We have your Roland to rescue, yes?"

Roland who was most probably dead the moment she stepped out of this Howe’s door. But - for once - he was willing to bet on the improbable.

Hope replacing despair in her eyes was a beautiful sight.


End file.
